


awareness and manifestation

by kaumari



Series: time is the change from stardust to bones [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, M/M, love is stored in the rice ball!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:47:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26033665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaumari/pseuds/kaumari
Summary: in which knowing something is not the same as understanding it, and rice is the catalyst.
Relationships: Kita Shinsuke/Miya Atsumu
Series: time is the change from stardust to bones [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1889728
Kudos: 44





	awareness and manifestation

Once upon a time, when Atsumu was less knowledgeable and more agreeable, they had taken a trip to visit the Tamatsukuri Inari Shrine. He hadn't cared about the shrine at all at the time—seven years old isn't the age you expect piety. There were more important things to focus on, such as the ever-changing landscape as they got closer and closer to the city proper. Atsumu had visited Himeji with his mother a few times and Kobe once, but the excitement of an even bigger city, with more people and more bustle, had been the greatest allure.

To him, the shrine wasn't anything special. A bunch of statues, a large room for prayers and offerings, some stone torii. He didn't understand why they came all this way to see a more popular version of the same small shrine they had in Shiso. When he'd said as much to his mother, impatient and bored, she'd only smiled at him.

"Atsumu-chan," she began, and Atsumu huffed, feeling an oncoming lecture on being respectful. Instead, she said, "Yer right. We don't need to visit a big shrine ta pray. If we're devoted enough, we're satisfied with even the smallest shows of our devotion. But there is nothing wrong with being a little showy every once in a while."

He wouldn't think about that again for quite a few years. But it kept him quiet until they left Tamatsukuri, when he tossed it away for the wonders of Osaka.

.-. .. -.-. .

Rice is a sacred thing. Atsumu is aware of this from a young age, but that's not the same as understanding. Inari Ōkami, deity of rice and foxes and wealth and a hundred other things Atsumu never paid attention to. Inari Ōkami and Tamatsukuri and a grain of wisdom he hardly paid attention to at the time. It's not until Shinsuke takes time to teach him, during the beginning of the harvesting season, that he manifests that understanding and sees the beauty of it.

"The aroma of the rice is just as important as the taste," he'd said. The sun is low and golden in the sky, stretching over the rice paddies to rest on Shinsuke’s cheekbones. Patchwork clouds are colored peach and pink. Soon it will be night, and they will lay side by side in their futons and pretend they are asleep to revel in the warmth of each other’s presence. Now it is sunset, and Atsumu obediently opens his mouth to accept the spoonful of rice Shinsuke offers him. Shinsuke’s rice is always brown at home. He usually strips the bran—Atsumu is proud he remembers that term—before selling it, although he does offer some brown rice for the more nutritious consumers. It didn’t used to matter to Atsumu.

“Mm.” He chews carefully. It’s sticky like he expects, slightly nutty if he thinks too hard, but the aroma is heavenly. He thinks he could fill himself on that alone. “Yer right as usual, Shin.”

“I know.” A soft smile under a soft sun. It’s easy to get lost here, in the fields of waving rice stalks. Sometimes being a bit showy isn’t bad, he thinks, as he leans forward to kiss his own god.

.-. .. -.-. .

“One onigiri for the pain in my ass,” Osamu announces cheerfully, sliding one carefully packed onigiri to Atsumu.

“Fuck off,” he retorts, challenging smirk firmly in place. He picks up the onigiri and raises an eyebrow. “Brown rice?”

“I’m trying somethin’ new. Just give me yer review.” Atsumu shrugs and (“The aroma is just as important.”) breathes in the scent of the rice. Slightly nutty. Satisfied, he takes a bite and eats happily, until he has a sudden realization.

“Wait a minute,” he says, swallowing. “This is freshly harvested.”

“How could you tell?” Atsumu is only mildly offended by Osamu’s surprise.

“The flavor is stronger, and brown rice loses that quickly if it isn’t fresh.” He takes another bite and chews methodically this time, trying to figure out where he knows the taste from. “Wait. This tastes like Shin’s rice.”

“Had no idea my brother was a rice connoisseur.” Osamu points at a bag of rice in the back. A bag of rice with a familiar label. “He delivered it yesterday.”

“What?” Atsumu squawks. “He never said anythin’! And since when didja make a business deal with him?”

“Since spring.” Osamu smiles devilishly. “Didn’t know you could be this clueless.”

“Shut up, I was in postseason!” He punctuates this with another bite, but he isn’t able to stay mad long while eating. Osamu is good at cooking, and Shinsuke is good at growing rice. It brings him a sense of satisfaction to be able to tell Shinsuke’s rice apart from the kind Osamu always used before. If he’s devoted enough, even the smallest things show it. If he loves Shinsuke enough, he’ll see it throughout his life, colored in gold and peach and pink.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/timelessidyll) \+ [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/timelessidyll)!


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